


Camaraderie

by lobsterkaijin



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Alcohol, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, TKS, TheKingdomofShipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22898560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lobsterkaijin/pseuds/lobsterkaijin
Summary: In which Chrome makes bad decisions.
Relationships: Magma/Chrome (Dr. STONE)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 24





	Camaraderie

He’s _so_ full.

He’s _so full._ The disgusting and bitter wine he’d gorged himself on half an hour ago churns in his belly. From his face all the way to his toes, he burns with the kind of fire that pulls apart his every nerve and splits his every thought in two and rails him with the force of a mountain and _dear God is this what it feels like to die?_ If the taste of it hasn’t killed him, then everything that follows after surely will.

It started in his throat. As the liquid squeezed down, it scraped his throat raw. Once it hit his belly, it stung, _angry,_ and he’d immediately tasted bile. A question had popped into his mind, _why the hell do people drink this?_ Then it came back up, skipped his mouth, and went straight to his cheeks. After that, shot right into his skull, and that’s when he _really_ understood. His greatest weapon, his mind, jolted awake with wonder and amazement at just what the hell was happening. 

The world moved like molasses, and he was swimming in it. Heavy limbs, heavy head, heavy hand in his hair. The trees and the grass became blurs of colour, yet as he’d pressed his hands to the wall to steady himself, his skin and the bruises around his wrist had never been so detailed. His brain was awake but his reasoning asleep on a bed of cotton, spread out in the same way he was. Processes going a billion miles a second but with no rhyme or reason or any semblance of an answer as to why he thought this would be a good idea. The very _baaaad_ thoughts in his head told him it didn’t _have_ to be anything, he just had to _feel,_ and boy did this make him _feel_ great.

Fingers are shoved into his throat to make him swallow down whatever noises he makes, followed by a gruff laugh and a playful comment on how he must really like it rough because he tightened up at the intrusion _._ His tongue plays along the callouses. Drool runs down his chin, and he chokes on his words, or well, they were supposed to be words. They might resemble words. Half his brain is too busy taking a lovely stroll down south to a tropical island where it’s always sunny and warm and the threat of an active volcano is ever present, while the other half of his brain makes the pathetic attempt to jot every detail of this experience down so he can come to a _definitely_ scientific conclusion later. His mouth can handle not talking. 

And he’d thought alcohol was the only thing he was discovering tonight. 

Maybe it’s a punishment for his pride. Gen had politely declined, Senkū called it stupid. But when it comes to the men of the Ishigami Village, born and raised to fight on their spirit alone and stubborn ‘til the very end, brimming with sheer willpower, well, how could they resist Magma’s challenge? Kinrō sipped his two cups with graceful solemnity and bid them all an early goodnight. Ginrō couldn’t make it past one before he was out like a light. Kaseki powered through his own glass, tore off his shirt, declared himself emblazoned with passion, and ran off to get to work on a new project. Ukyo watched silently from the sidelines. Taiju yelled about the legality of this after taking one sip, and refused to touch it for the rest of the night. Although they are not men, Kohaku and Nikki took up the challenge and beat every single one of them. 

And then there’s Chrome. Curiosity got the better of him, especially after Gen speculated on what type of “drunk” he is. Apparently there are a few kinds: happy, sad, reckless, philosophical, sleazy, and sober. He decided at that moment he would see for himself what being drunk was like, and what type he fit! Who knows, he could invent a totally new _baaaad_ type! One glass turned into two, two turned into four, and four turned into however many it took to warm up to the idea of taking Magma’s dick behind the base of the observatory.

“This friendship thing of yours might not be such a bad idea after all.” 

Ugh, _shaddup._ Chrome can’t see that ugly mug, but the sneer is so obvious in his stupid slurred speech. If those broad fingers weren’t occupying all the space between his teeth, he’d have some choice words for the guy. 

Magma removes his fingers and grasps Chrome’s throat hard enough that he knows his voice is gonna be hoarse tomorrow, and suddenly all those choice words become choice sounds, _appreciative_ sounds, utterly humiliating _please keep doing that_ sounds, and as horrible as he is, Magma’s saving grace is in that he’s enjoying this just as much as Chrome is. He squeezes harder, hard enough to make Chrome’s vision start doing the same thing his limbs are and _swim,_ and his brain decides to leave him to his own devices at that moment because there is no attempt he can make to accurately describe exactly what it is this is doing to him.

“Is this really your first time?” Magma continues, because he didn’t get the memo that Chrome has no interest in what he has to say. “You’re takin’ it like you’ve never thought about girls a day in your life.”

“Y-Yeah?” Chrome says, breath hitching as Magma’s stupidly thick dick clings to every inch of his insides. “And you _give it_ like you’ve never thought about girls a day in _your_ life.”

“Big talk comin’ from such a small guy.” Magma wraps his hand around Chrome’s wrist and yanks his arm behind his back. “We’ll see how big you feel now.” 

Chrome grins. No warning, huh? _Ooh,_ that one must’ve pinched a nerve. He struggles against Magma’s hold, but in such an awkward position, he can’t comfortably hold himself up and also adjust to that vice grip. Well, his dignity’s already out the window, what’s a little more submission? Biting his lip, Chrome lowers his head and presses it against the wall to brace himself against Magma’s spike in thrusts. Magma isn’t done, apparently, and lifts Chrome’s feet off the ground. He’s at Magma’s mercy now, and the guy’s never been known for his forgiveness.

“Woah, hey! You je— _aah!_ ” Chrome cries out as Magma bends him even more and hits him again and again and again in his most tender spot.

Magma laughs and leans in close. “What’s that?” The rumble in his voice settles deep in Chrome’s chest. Every time he tries to respond, Magma pulls all the way back and snaps back in, and all Chrome can do is yell and cry out and _take it,_ take _all_ of it, every inch. Yeah, that’s _way_ too many inches. Way more than Chrome ever needed to think about.

“I s-said you’re a j-je— _ooh._ ” There goes his pride.

Magma snorts. “Huh?” Another thrust. Chrome can’t feel his legs. 

“Speak up.” And another. Chrome’s voice cracks. 

“Can’t hear you, pal.” _And another._ Chrome squeezes his eyes shut as a tear escapes.

He’s so full, full of Magma, and it’s a really _baaaad_ kind of full, being stretched like this around a guy who is trying to break him in half. What an asshole, lay off! How much does he think the human body can take, anyways? 

His back is killing him. Well, more accurately, _Magma_ is killing him. Chrome’s one free arm wraps around Magma’s neck, pulling his back flush against Magma’s chest and stretching his belly taut, and something in Magma shifts then. His thrusts become slower, he takes his time, drags out every moan from Chrome’s throat, makes sure Chrome _feels_ every movement, how he is pulled apart over and over, filled to the brim, twitching with the pulsation. 

He’s let go of Chrome’s arm and wrapped it around his dripping dick instead. Just like all of him, his hand is huge, and he can jerk the whole thing with ease. For someone who’s supposedly never held another man’s dick in his life, Magma sure knows how to work the shaft. 

The air grows thick between them. Magma nestles his face in the crook of Chrome’s shoulder and a flush creeps up Chrome’s face. Woah, that’s super friendly of him, totally unlike him. It’s nice, hits a little different, Chrome’s moans come out a little less strained and a little more encouraging. Magma’s got nothing to say to that. It’s not that he’s being quiet now. All his words were replaced by groans and moans of his own and it’s so much hotter than whatever bullshit he was talking before.

Magma’s rhythm grows erratic. Speeding up, he’s hitting Chrome more and more and all Chrome can think about is that one place that Magma keeps rubbing into. It’s like he’s shaped in such a way that it’s perfect for aiming it dead on. Is it possible to go all the way up into his heart like this? It sure feels like it. Everything is too tight and too heavy and too full and his head and heart are occupied by that jerk and nothing else and he doesn’t mind. Chrome can barely take a breath. The only word he can manage is Magma’s name, and he gasps it. 

“ _Chrome,_ ” comes Magma’s voice right there in his brain, heady and rough with need. Though it’s the only word he said, Chrome hears so much more, a question, pleaded, _begged,_ and even if this is the first time he’s done it like this with a dude, he somehow understands what it is that Magma’s saying, all from one breathless calling of his name.

He’s equally breathless as he answers back with a confident, “ _Yeah._ ”

Magma smiles wolfishly against his ear, his own breath seething from between his teeth, leaving Chrome’s face and neck all hot and wet. Pressure concentrates in between his legs, his gut twisting apart around Magma as if he’s trying to pull him in deeper still. Magma’s grip on him tightens. Neither of them can manage any words now, not as Magma jerks Chrome off in time with his thrusts, not as he takes over every sense Chrome has, not as sparks dance beneath his skin and suddenly he’s on fire and coating Magma’s hand with his come, and Magma is erupting and filling him from the inside.

Magma rides out the wave of his orgasm as Chrome comes down from his high and regains feeling in the lower half of his body. He didn’t even realize his feet were touching the ground again until Magma’s pulling out and Chrome lurches, unused to supporting his own weight. Thankfully, Magma hasn’t let go yet, and he keeps Chrome steady as Chrome presses his forehead back to the wall to let himself cool off. Chrome’s hand falls against the one Magma still has around his waist. He doesn’t think about it. The only thing they exchange for a few moments are their panting breaths.

When Chrome remembers how to breathe properly again, he turns to face Magma, totally not noticing even then how Magma keeps his arm tightly around his waist, and he grins. “That was seriously _baaaad._ ”

Magma returns the grin. “Well of _course!_ You _were_ doing it with the great _Magma_ after all!”

“Sure, sure.” Chrome snickers. “Whatever you say, big _baaaad_ Magma.”

Magma’s about to retort, when a voice from above rings out. “Could you shut the hell up and let us sleep?” 

They both look up to see a groggy-eyed Senkū glaring at them from the window in the observatory and blanche. Right, Senkū and Gen didn’t have anything to drink. They wouldn’t be enjoying the nice, peaceful sleep that the other villagers were.

“S-Sorry, Senkū!” Chrome sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“Just get the hell off my lawn.” Senkū retreats back inside.

There’s a lull, and then both Chrome and Magma are laughing. They get their pants back on, and neither of them say anything as they go back to their respective sleeping quarters. When they lay down to sleep, the both of them are thinking the same thing.

The strongest bond isn’t formed between pals exploring a treasure dungeon. 

It’s formed like _this._


End file.
